


Need

by arrenkae



Category: Incredibles (Pixar Movies)
Genre: (ok well it's sorta resolved but not really), F/F, First Kiss, One Shot, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 23:29:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17375246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arrenkae/pseuds/arrenkae
Summary: For as long as she can remember Evelyn has watched people. Stood at the fringes of parties and groups and observed as they talk, watched for their little idiosyncrasies and the way pleasantries flow back and forth like waves, while her brother works the room. Winston has a knack for it, what she calls the fine art of bullshit, something she's never had inclination or aptitude to learn.





	Need

For as long as she can remember Evelyn has watched people. Stood at the fringes of parties and groups and observed as they talk, watched for their little idiosyncrasies and the way pleasantries flow back and forth like waves, while her brother works the room. Winston has a knack for it, what she calls the fine art of bullshit, something she's never had inclination or aptitude to learn. And yet - she watches.

She can sense the way fear and insecurities play out, see the posturing and grasping for status, the things they all crave. And everyone has _something._ Perhaps, if she observes for long enough, she can find the algorithm for people.

What does Helen need, she wonders?

The woman has drawn her eye from across the room. Since the day they met, something about her has niggled at Evelyn. It's obvious what others want, like her brother, who wants a hero and who wants to be liked, or Bob, Helen's ex, who still reminisces about the glory days. But Helen isn't nostalgic. She isn't fame hungry, she doesn't care if people like her. Excitement, then? Adventure?

Evelyn studies the line of her, the glittering midnight blue dress that sweeps down low to her back and clings to her hips, and the way her hair sweeps behind her ear with a self-conscious shift of the hand. A smile, then, at some comment, and a joke in response. Helen is much better than her at this sort of thing.

Something about her has blossomed since her return to the spotlight. Evelyn clings to the little spark of pride that flares within her. She picked out that dress herself, since Helen had a closet full of clothes more suitable for chasing children, and she'd left it as a present. She wonders if Helen _knows_. If, while she had put it on and zipped it up, that she'd known who sent it.

Helen looks up, turns her head, and spots Evelyn from across the room. She smiles and brushes the hair behind her ear again. Unexpectedly, she breaks away from the group, and begins to meander through the crowd, out from under the dazzle of party lights and up the stairs where Evelyn has found a dark corner. Her fingers tighten reflexively on the stem of the wineglass and she is all of a sudden aware of the five other drinks before that. _Is this an invitation?_ Evelyn wonders.

As she's computing the logistics of the situation, Helen approaches and stands next to her. Her bare arm rests on the railing, fingers mere centimetres from Evelyn's arm. "Hey," says Helen, "Why are you hiding up here? Come on down. This is your party, too."

"Oh, they don't need me," says Evelyn, in a sarcastic tone, "Winston's better at the whole... PR move-and-mingle thing."

"You deserve credit, too." says Helen with a gentle smile, and Evelyn scoffs and looks away. More because she finds she can't look for long at Helen, it's too bright, somehow.

"Hey, I mean it," Helen insists, nudging her arm playfully, and she can't help but tense a little at the contact. Helen is smiling at her so she relaxes. Maybe this is all she wants. Company.

"You're not too bad at the PR thing yourself."

"Why thank you," says Helen, "And thanks for the gift. You didn't have to lend me your dress. It was sweet of you."

"It wasn't charity, I'm getting just as much out of it as you are," Evelyn teases, though she means it. She wonders if the other woman knows it was less of a _donation_ and more of a _purchase_ from a highly exclusive designer. She tries not to examine her own motives for such things. The sight of Helen in a dress that accentuates the slope of her hips is reward enough.

"I'll have to repay you," Helen says, in a softer tone, and Evelyn is confused for a moment. _What is she after?_

The look on Helen's face in the dimness is inscrutable. So she blurts out: "What do you want from me?"

Helen blinks, then her mouth curves in fond exasperation.

"Don't overthink it."

She leans forward, and the hand slips from the railing to cover Evelyn's own, just for a moment, loosening the drink from her fingers and setting it aside. Her brown eyes - like liquid caramel, like whisky - are quite close, all of a sudden, and Evelyn lets out a breath.

"Name your price, then."

Helen crosses the distance between them and her mouth brushes against Evelyn's with the softest of touches. The sleek bob of her hair tickles her cheek. Evelyn can feel the remaining air between them like a weight. There is the distant music of the party and the pounding of her own heart. Best of all, the brief, teasing warmth of Helen tasting her lower lip. Her hand comes up to brush against the bare warmth of Helen's back - and then she pulls away.

Evelyn blinks, mouth open, and realizes she needs to reconsider a _lot_ of things she thought she knew about Helen.


End file.
